


The Bones in the Cactus

by 18lzytwner



Series: Bones - Second Series [4]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-22
Updated: 2009-09-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 07:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 20,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15383379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18lzytwner/pseuds/18lzytwner
Summary: Booth and Brennan are called out to Arizona after a grusome discovery is found in the desert. With the suspects seemingly in custody, can they convince the local PD that there is something more sinister going on?





	1. Chapter 1

**Arizona Desert, Saturday at 9:00 pm**

          Arizona State had just won its third straight football game and Billy Bob and his roommate David were going out to celebrate.  The two drunken college boys headed out to a nearby portion of desert, not far from their off campus apartment, to shoot off some fireworks.  Neither one could remember whose idea it was to bring the shotgun but so what if they blew up a few cacti.

          “Help me get this steady,” Billy Bob slurred as he almost tripped over his own feet.  David grabbed the bottle rocket he’d brought from home in Pennsylvania and stuck it into the ground.

          “How are we lighting it?”  His buddy asked.

          “Use the shotgun,” Billy Bob chuckled.

          “Won’t it just explode then?”  David wondered.

          “You’re right.  I think I got a lighter in the truck,” Billy Bob nodded slightly and hauled his two hundred and thirty pound frame to the cab of the two thousand and four pickup truck.  There he fumbled around until he found what he was looking for in the glove box. 

          “Here,” the bigger boy chucked the BIC lighter at David who caught it and proceeded to fall down.  To this Billy just guffawed loudly for about ten minutes before his friend managed to get himself steady and light the lighter.  Carefully as he could, David lit the bottle rocket and they enjoyed the moment before Billy shouted,

          “Where are the M80’s?”

          “Check the cup holders!”  His roommate shouted back.  Sure enough there they were in the cup holders and that’s when Billy had another brilliant idea.

          “Why don’t we stick the M80 into the cactus and shoot it with the shotgun?”

          “Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh, I like your thinking!”  David smirked as his friend handed him two of the dangerous little bombs.  He placed them so that they leaned against the cactus and essentially used the prickly spines to hold the target up before backing up about two feet.

          “Dude you got to get further back.  The prickly thing could fall on you,” Billy stuttered.  The real truth of it was that the shrapnel from the M80’s and the shotgun shell would probably do more damage at that range than the skinny little cactus would.  Following his friend’s advice, David backed up about two more feet and pumped the shotgun.

          “Fire in the hole!”  He shouted before squeezing the trigger.  His first shot missed completely which only caused Billy Bob to laugh so hard, he almost hurt himself.  Re-aiming the shotgun, David fired once more.  This time it was a direct hit and the cactus’ base exploded and the prickly desert plant fell backwards.  The explosion threw the idiots back toward their vehicle but all they did was laugh about it.

          “That was awesome!”  Billy howled.

          “We got anymore of those things?”  David asked.

          “Yeah two more.  Blow up that one,” his roommate pointed to a cactus about the same distance away from the truck as the other one.  David stumbled over to the cactus and set it up for destruction.

          “Let me shoot it,” Billy said and his friend handed him the weapon.  Blinking a few times, Billy tried to steady himself.  He couldn’t and his first shot missed by a good fifteen feet.

          “You’re not sober enough,” David told him.

          “I is too,” his roommate replied.  The second shot was closer but now the weapon had to be reloaded.

          “I only have one shell left.  Let me shoot,” David whined.  Billy gave him a look and put the shell into the shotgun.

          “I gots it,” he said and he aimed the weapon.  Pulling the trigger, the shot finally hit its mark and the cactus’ base exploded.  Both boys kept laughing and laughing until they heard the sirens in the distance.

          “Shit!  It’s the cops!  Let’s go!”  Quickly the two hopped back into their truck and fired it up.  However as they turned it around to try to reach the road, two squad cars pulled up.  The officers exited the vehicles with their weapons drawn.

          “Get out of the truck!”  One yelled.  David and Billy did as they were told.  Once they were cuffed and loaded into the back of one of the squad cars, both officers surveyed the damage.

          “Drunken college boys,” the elder officer, Rick Gerber, shook his head.

          “Hey Rick, you’d better come take a look at this,” the younger officer, Brian Elkhart, called.  Gerber approached the younger officer expecting him to be pointing out what had happened when he already had a good idea.  However what he got was something entirely different.

          “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”  Brian asked.

          “Yeah.  You’d better call the coroner,” Rick told the young deputy.  Quickly Elkhart picked up his shoulder radio and called to the station.

          “Dispatch this is Delta fourteen please come back,”

          “Dispatch is receiving you Delta fourteen,” came the reply.

          “Dispatch, please send out the coroner to my location.  We found something,” Brian said.

          “Coroner and backup en route, Delta fourteen,” the dispatcher told him.

**Brennan’s Apartment, Sunday at 9:00 am**  

          A knock on her door shook her out of her sleep and the forensic anthropologist looked at the clock.  It had been a late night last night and she had been looking to have the day off.  Booth had promised to swing by in the afternoon so they could spend the day together. 

          Another knock got her out of bed and she threw her bathrobe on over her shirt and boxers.  Making her way down the hall, she called out,

          “I’m coming,”

          “I can’t wait,” the voice on the other side of the door was all too familiar.

          “I thought you weren’t coming over until later.  I filed my report late last night,” Brennan smiled as she opened the door.

          “Unfortunately, this is a business call not a social one although I’m wishing it could be,” he let out a low whistle as he saw she was wearing one of his t-shirts.

          “What happened?”  She asked as she let him in, closing the door behind him.

          “There’s a body out in Phoenix that needs your expertise.  We’re catching the next flight out,” Booth told her.

          “When did you get the call?  They are two hours behind us,” the forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “Last night at midnight.  The Phoenix field office has already contacted me and they’ve booked us a stay at one of the local hotels.  The next flight leaves Dulles at noon,” her partner smiled.

          “I’ll pack my bags.  Does Cam know?”  She asked as she headed back down the hall.

          “Yup.  She’ll have the Lab ready for when you send the body back,” he followed her down the hall.

          “You’re going to help me pack?”  Brennan raised her right eyebrow.

          “You know me.  I’m always willing to help,” Booth had a big grin on his face.

          “Even if that packing leads to me taking a shower all by my lonesome?”  She smirked.

          “Oh you won’t be by your lonesome,” he leaned down and captured her lips in his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Phoenix Police Headquarters, Sunday at 3:00 pm, Mountain Time**

            Booth and Brennan entered the police station and were immediately met by Officer Chambliss who took them to see the Sheriff.

          “Sheriff Bosch, this is Special Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan,” the officer informed his superior.

          “Thank you Chambliss.  That’ll be all,” the Sheriff said.  The younger man nodded and quickly scooted back to his desk.  Bosch turned to the two partners and offered them seats across from his desk.  They took them and then Booth got down to business.

          “We understand you have an interesting case out here,” the FBI agent said.

          “That we do, although we already have some suspects in custody so I’m not sure how your assistance will be needed,” Bosch was a gruff man who obviously didn’t want the FBI stepping into his jurisdiction.

          “You call those two jokers exploding cacti your suspects when you haven’t even identified the body?”  Brennan asked.  She was thoroughly confused as to how the dots had been connected.

          “They were shooting off illegal fireworks and exploding giant saguaro cacti, which are a protected species.  Plus the shotgun is registered in Texas.  Being college kids, at the end of the semester they’ll go home and we won’t be able to do anything about it.  All those crimes they committed last night are mostly misdemeanors, hardly extradition worthy,” the Sheriff explained.

          “So you’d like to tie them to the murder while you’ve got them in custody.  Well why don’t we let my partner do her thing before we go charging these kids with anything else.  They’d have no reason to expose the place they buried the body,” Booth made an excellent point and that earned him a stare from the Sheriff.

          “All right.  Follow Officer Chambliss out to the scene.  We left everything intact.  Dr. Riley is still out there along with the crime scene unit,” with that the meeting was over and the partners exited his office and met up with the officer.

          “Is he always like that?”  Booth asked.

          “Only lately.  He’s six months away from retiring.  I guess he just doesn’t know what to do after,” Chambliss shrugged as they walked out into the Arizona heat.

          “I see,” the G-man nodded but didn’t say anything further.  Brennan wondered what the significance was and reminded herself to ask him later. 

**Crime Scene, Sunday at 4:30 pm, Mountain Time**  

          “Dr. Riley, this here is Special Agent Booth of the FBI and Dr. Brennan of the Jeffersonian,” Chambliss introduced them to the elderly gentlemen.  He was balding but still maintained much of his silver hair and wore a goatee.  In order to keep cool, he wore khaki shorts and a white button down shirt under his coroner’s office windbreaker.

          “It’s very nice to meet you although I wish it was under better circumstances,” the coroner smiled and shook both their hands.

          “Likewise Doc.  So what have you got?”  Booth asked.

          “Last night upon the explosion of this cactus, our officers discovered a right hand and radius and ulna,” Riley led them over to one of the tents that had been set up and showed off the bones.

          “As you can see, no flesh remains.  In this desert, that isn’t surprising.  Most desert animals will feed on a corpse at night and with the high temperatures and wind blown sand, flesh tends to decay quickly,” he continued.

          “I can imagine, Dr. Riley,” Brennan took out some latex gloves from the pocket of her Jeffersonian jumpsuit.  Booth had said she could change in the rented SUV and she had objected at first but was glad she had changed.  The heat allowed her to wear nothing but her undergarments underneath the suit, a fact Booth would like to hear later, she was sure.

          With the gloves on, the forensic anthropologist picked up the bones and examined them.  Something troubled her and she turned to the coroner.

          “Dr. Riley, where are the distal and intermediate phalanges for this hand?” 

          “Please call me Ted.  As for those poor fingertips, they were lost in the explosion of the M80’s I’m afraid.  I have the forensic team looking for shards and uncovering the rest of the body,” he informed her.

          “Are we sure that’s what happened?”  Booth asked.

          “Oh yes.  The big desert animals such as the coyote would not go for such a boney prospect when eating and once buried the remainder of the body seems relatively intact.  Plus there is this,” he led them out to another tent which held the remains of the cactus.

          “Do you see the slice in the trunk?”  Riley wondered.

          “Yes,” Booth nodded.

          “We picked this out of it,” the coroner pointed to a bone shard that lie on the table.

          “Ah that would explain it,” the G-man said.

          “Any cause of death yet?”  Brennan changed the subject.

          “Without the full body exhumed from the sand dune, it is hard to say but I would hazard a guess in saying that the body has been here at least three years,” Riley told them.  The forensic anthropologist nodded and walked over to where the forensic unit was brushing the sand off with brushes similar to those used by an archeologist.

          “I need you to send all of this evidence, including the body back to the Jeffersonian once I’ve had the opportunity to examine it,” she said as the doctor and her partner approached her from the tent.

          “Of course.  As soon as we get our poor victim out of there, everything will head back to the Jeffersonian.  Is there anything else you need?”  Ted wondered.

          “Here is my cell phone number Doc.  Call me when you’ve got the body back to your office.  We’ve got to check in with the Phoenix field office.  I’ve had them running some things for me and now I can help narrow the search with your time estimate,” Booth smiled and handed the older man his card.

          “Excellent.  With any luck you’ll hear from me by sundown,” the coroner smiled and headed back to the site and Booth and Brennan walked back to the SUV.

          “What did you have running at the field office?”  His partner asked once they were inside the SUV and headed away from the crime scene.

          “I had them running missing persons cases and background checks on the two kids they arrested yesterday.  Plus we have to check into our hotel and find something to eat because my stomach can’t take it anymore,” he explained.  As if to emphasize his point, his stomach gurgled.

          “I see,” Brennan smirked. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Coroner’s Office, Sunday at 9:30 pm, Mountain Time**

          Booth had received a call from Dr. Riley and they entered the coroner’s office shortly after sundown.  The FBI field office had narrowed their search but there were still a lot of cases to sift through.  The background checks on the boys who had been arrested would be along any moment.

          “Dr. Riley, what have you got?”  Booth asked.

          “Well it seems like a male, approximate height of six foot two, and I can say with definite certainty this was a case of murder,” the coroner told them.

          “Why is that?”  Brennan was intrigued.

          “There is a bullet hole in the back of the skull, I’d say a nine millimeter,” Dr. Riley picked up the head and showed it to the forensic anthropologist.

          “So our victim was killed execution style out in the desert.  Do you still stand by your estimate of three years?”  Booth wondered.

          “I do,” Riley nodded as he watched Dr. Brennan look at the skeleton.

          “Bones?”  Her partner had seen that look before.  She’d found something that could be important.

          “I concur with the timeframe but these fractures near the kneecaps are interesting as well as the fact that the victim is missing his patellae.  It looks as though our killer or killers hit the knees with some sort of pipe or bat.  I’ll have to have Simon analyze these further,” she replied.

          “The patellae are small bones, it’s possible they were carried away when the body was chewed upon.  As you can see, there is evidence of coyote bite marks on the femur and ribs,” Riley said.

          “Yes it is quite possible.  However, these are the only bones missing.  Animal predation is not a selective process.  They eat the meat or they carry some of it back to feed others.  I think that once Simon closely examines the breaks and markings near the kneecap, he’ll find that the patellae were removed by the use of a tool,” Brennan told them.  Booth was off in thought and Riley came over to see what she was talking about.

          “Is it possible the body had been reburied?”  The G-man asked suddenly.

          “Yes, its quite possible.  It would explain the lack of interest by the animals but it wouldn’t explain the bite marks,” Brennan pointed out.  Booth just nodded and a thoughtful look returned to his face.

          “The evidence seems to be pointing in two different directions,” Riley was trying to make sense of it all.

          “How old would you say that cactus was?”  Brennan suddenly asked.

          “I’m no expert on cacti but the giant saguaro cactus is a very slow grower.  It couldn’t have been more than a couple years old.  The first one that had been exploded was much older,” the coroner said.

          “I need samples of both to be sent to the Jeffersonian.  A coworker of mine might be able to narrow things down,” Brennan instructed.

          “All right.  I’ll have everything shipped out tonight and the Jeffersonian should have everything by tomorrow afternoon,” Riley nodded and immediately got to work boxing up the evidence.  The partners thanked him and headed back to their hotel to review some of the files they picked up.  Booth called the Phoenix office and told them to get narrow the search of missing persons to the description Riley had given them.

          “You seemed very off in thought earlier.  What’s on your mind?”  Brennan asked him as he fired up the rented SUV.

          “Nothing you’d like.  Jumping to conclusions mostly,” he teased.

          “It’s ok for you to do it.  I want facts before I give information,” she told him.

          “All right.  Then I’m thinking this was a Mob hit,” Booth said.

          “Is this because the victim was “kneecapped”,” her use of air quotes made him chuckle. 

          “Something like that Bones.  I’m thinking that those two kids that the Sheriff has in custody have nothing to do with the murder and that they’re being used as scapegoats,” the FBI agent shook his head as they pulled up to a red light near their hotel.

          “So the Sheriff has a part in this?”  Brennan asked, slightly confused.

          “Maybe or maybe he knows someone who is connected to all this.  You heard the deputy.  Bosch is six months from retirement.  I’m sure he doesn’t want anything interfering with his pension,” Booth pointed out.

          “Ah, I see,” she nodded as the SUV turned into the parking lot of the hotel.  


	4. Chapter 4

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Monday at 3:00 pm (Eastern Time)**

          “Our evidence has arrived,” Cam said into her desk phone.

          “On my way,” Angela promised.  She hung up the phone and walked out to the platform.  Her colleagues were already up there removing the evidence with gloved hands and examining the pieces.  Sometimes she was glad that she only had to give a face or chase the killer’s trail with her massive computer.  The victims weren’t always in the nicest of conditions and she still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that someone could murder someone else with little or no reason.  Perhaps that’s why she enjoyed giving them faces and seeing the killers caught but just the same she would prefer a live specimen every now and then.

          “Looks like you’ll be able to have the skull very soon,” Simon smiled as the forensic artist entered the platform.

          “Oh and why is that?”  She asked.

          “Well the flesh is completely gone and the obvious cause of death would be this hole,” the intern pointed out the bullet hole by sticking his finger through it.

          “Lovely,” Angela remarked.

          “Simon, Dr. Brennan wants you to examine the kneecaps and bite marks in particular.  I’ll handle the skeleton layout.  You get working on those tissue markers,” Cam interrupted the two.

          “Yes, Dr. Saroyan,” he took the skull over to a separate exam table while she continued to lay the remainder of the skeleton on the first table.

          “I get cactus samples?”  Hodgins raised an eyebrow as he pulled the pieces of cactus from the box.  They had been sealed in plastic containers to avoid the spines from sticking through a bag.

          “Hey you’re bugs, slime, and plant guy,” Cam teased him.

          “How am I supposed to analyze this?  I’m going to be covered in those spines,” the entomologist wondered.

          “Suddenly I had this picture of the Coyote and the Roadrunner pop into my head,” Simon smirked.

          “I always felt bad for the Coyote.  He got himself blown up so many times,” Angela shook her head.

          “Then a Coyote, I’ll be,” Hodgins smiled as he ran off to his station to have a closer look at the cactus evidence.

          “Talk about motivation,” Cam chuckled.  The forensic artist rolled her eyes and headed off the platform.

          “Let me know when I can have the skull,” she called over her shoulder.  Making her way back to her office, she plopped down into her chair and grabbed her desk phone once again.

          “Brennan,” came the reply.

          “Hi sweetie,” Angela smiled despite her best friend not being able to see.

          “Am I to assume the evidence has arrived?”  The forensic anthropologist asked.

          “It has.  I hope to have a picture for you soon,”

          “Great.  I’ll talk to you soon,” Brennan hung up and turned to face Booth who was sitting across the table from her at a local diner that they had stopped in for lunch.  It was only one thirty in Phoenix and they had taken a break from the case.

          “Angela promises to have more for us to go on soon,” she smiled slightly before looking down at her salad.

          “Good.  The sooner we can prove that Billy Bob and David didn’t kill our vic, the better,” he said.  Grabbing some fries, he dunked them into the ketchup he’d put on his plate and then stuffed them into his mouth.  Brennan made a face and picked up her fork. 

          “What did your field office have to say?”  She asked as she picked up some romaine lettuce and daintily ate it.

          “They’ve been looking for someone with the info I gave them but it doesn’t really narrow it down.  As far as Mob connections, they’re still digging,” he said before taking a bite of his burger.

          “Why isn’t Charlie helping us?”  Brennan wondered.

          “He was cleared for duty.  No more desk work for him,” Booth smiled.  He believed that Charlie would make a great field agent.  He was smart, eager, and he could do anything he could put his mind to. 

          “Good for him,” his partner smiled back.  They were just finishing up twenty minutes later when Booth’s phone rang.

          “Booth,” Brennan watched his facial expressions and wondered what was going on.  He had this weird look on his face that she couldn’t place.

          “We’ll be right there,” he responded.  After hanging up his phone, he signaled that they were ready for the check.

          “What’s going on?”  She asked.

          “That was Officer Chambliss.  Billy Bob and David’s lawyer is in the Sheriff’s office raising and I quote ‘all sorts of hell’.  My guess the lawyer is freaking out about the murder charge that won’t stick,” Booth shook his head.

          “All we can prove is that they blew up federally protected cacti and that they were drunk.  I’d be upset too,” Brennan said as the waitress took their cash and they stood up from the table.

          “So far all that adds up to is a fine or thirty days in jail.  Especially since they didn’t actually catch them driving their vehicle,” the G-man rolled his eyes as they exited the building and climbed into the SUV.

          “I want to know what my clients are still doing in holding,” Daniel Radwan was angry.

          “Actually I was going to ask the Sheriff that myself,” ADA Julie Sheridan looked at Bosch, waiting for an explanation.

          “They destroyed a protected species of cacti and there was a body discovered.  We are investigating the possibility of the two of them murdering our victim,” Bosch responded.

          “There is no way my clients murdered anyone.  I read the coroner’s report.  Its my understanding the Jeffersonian is handling the evidence?”  Radwan asked.

          “They are,” the Sheriff said.

          “Then you haven’t identified the victim.  You can’t hold my clients on some charge you’re trying to pin on them,” the lawyer argued.

          “Ladies and gentlemen, can we all calm down?”  Booth asked.

          “Who are you?” Radwan wanted to know.  Booth pulled out his badge and flashed it.

          “FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth.  This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan.  This is an ongoing investigation and I will fill everyone in when we have more to go on.  For the time being, Billy Bob Henry and David Masiello are only being charged with destruction of state property.  I will call in a federal prosecutor should anything more than a minor misdemeanor comes into play,” he explained.

          “Then my clients should at least have a bail hearing,” Radwan said.

          “They will be arraigned soon that I can promise you,” Booth smiled slightly and then turned to the ADA.

          “If we could have a word?”  He asked.

          “Of course,” Sheridan smiled and followed him out of the Sheriff’s office and down the hall to an empty interrogation room.  The two stood in the viewing area and Booth discussed what they had found so far.

          “You really think the Sheriff is involved?”  Julie wondered.

          “Something isn’t sitting right.  I’m having my field office look into it,” he explained.

          “I’ll have Billy and David arraigned this afternoon,” she nodded and left the room.  Booth followed hoping that Angela would have an ID soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Tuesday at 10:00 am (Eastern Time)**

          Angela looked at the drawing in front of her.  She was confident that it was correct; it was just that the victim brought back memories of Kurt.  They looked quite similar and that’s why she wondered if she had unintentionally drawn her murdered boyfriend.

          “What have you got Angela?”  Cam walked into the forensic artist’s office and broke her train of thought.

          “A picture that will hopefully lead to an ID,” Angela smiled slightly.

          “Great, I’ll fax it to the Phoenix field office and have them contact Booth,” the Head of the Forensics Department took the sketch and was off going about the task she discussed.  Angela sighed and decided to see what the boys were up to.

          “Good morning Angela,” Simon was his usual cheerful self as she entered the platform.

          “Morning.  Anything good yet?”  She wondered.

          “Yes, I believe we aren’t dealing with coyote bites,” the intern said.

          “Oh and why is that?”  Angela looked at the marks on the bones and thought that the jaw of the animal that bit the victim had to have been big.

          “The depth of the marks aren’t consistent and they appear to be done after the flesh had been removed.  I fully expected to find tissues embedded inside the tiny corners of the marks but they were empty,” Simon replied.

          “And a coyote wouldn’t play with a bone?”  The forensic artist raised an eyebrow.

          “Well they would except it wouldn’t have been placed back with the body.  If a coyote used it as a chew toy it should still be out in the desert,” he explained.

          “Did you let Cam know?”  She asked.

          “Yes.  I was wondering if you could use the Angelator and perhaps come up with a scenario.  It would be very useful to see what kind of dog could make these bite marks,” Simon smiled nicely and she smirked. 

          “Trying to pickup Jack’s puppy dog eye routine?”  They both had a laugh at the entomologist’s expense.

          “I’ll see what I can find,” she promised before heading back to her office.

**The Phoenix FBI Field Office, Tuesday at 9:00 am**  

                Booth sat next to his partner and across the desk from Agent Cary Blachura.  The younger agent was slightly shorter than Brennan and she wore her brown hair up in a ponytail.  She had sent the fax to local police and they were now going through the missing persons database.

          “As you know both your suspects’ records came back clean; no Mob or crime family connections.  So far we haven’t found anything negative on Bosch but that doesn’t mean someone he knows isn’t clean.  Perhaps your victim wasn’t involved with the Sheriff and those two boys were just at the wrong place at the wrong time,” Blachura shrugged.

          “Perhaps but it doesn’t explain the Sheriff’s behavior,” Booth said.

          “Maybe he’s just under a lot of stress,” the younger agent commented.

          “Maybe,” Booth tossed the idea around in his head but it didn’t seem all that likely.  How much stress could he be under as he retires?

          “Looks like we have a hit on your victim,” Blachura turned the computer screen for the partners to see.

          “Reggie Sanderson, six foot two, two hundred pounds, aged twenty three at the time of his disappearance,” she read off.

          “Who reported him missing?”  Booth wondered.

          “His mother, Anita Sanderson.  She called the police when he didn’t return home from a friend’s house.  A search of the friend’s residence and the route to the Sanderson home was conducted and it came up empty.  Search efforts continued in the desert surrounding the highway for a week before it was called off due to the extreme summer heat.  That summer was one of the hottest on record here,” Blachura added.

          “Do you have a current address for his mother?”  Booth asked.

          “Sixty three Henderson Avenue.  I’ll upload the directions to your phone,” she told him.  He nodded and turned to his partner.

          “Ready to inform his mother?” 

          “I’m never quite ready for it,” she sighed.  She had been quiet most of the morning, trying to process what Simon had had Cam relay. 

          “I know what you mean Bones,” he half smiled as she stood from her seat.  The two headed out to the SUV, not looking forward to their next task.

**Sixty Three Henderson Avenue, Tuesday at 11:00 am**

          Booth pulled the SUV up the street and parked in front of the house.  It was a small ranch style in need of a paint job and probably a new roof.  The white paint was flaking off and the navy shutters weren’t in much better shape.  Moss grew on the roof near the chimney and closer to the gutters.  The front porch however looked almost brand new.  The black wrought iron railing had been freshly painted along with the white steps and porch planks.

          “Why make your porch so nice when the rest of the house is in need of work?”  Brennan asked.

          “Maybe the porch was the only thing she could afford,” Booth shrugged as he rang the doorbell. 

          “I suppose,” his partner tilted her head to the side slightly.  Just then the front door opened and there stood a woman in her early fifties.  Judging by the cane, Booth gathered she didn’t or couldn’t work full time.

          “Good morning ma’am.  I’m Special Agent Booth of the FBI and this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan,” his words made the woman’s face go pale.

          “You found my son didn’t you?”  She asked.

          “May we come inside?”  He wondered.  She only nodded and headed toward the living room.  Booth closed the door behind him and followed his partner until they were seated on a worn down sofa.

          “You found my son,” this time it was more of a statement than a question.

          “Yes ma’am.  I’m very sorry to have to tell you this but he was murdered three years ago,” Booth hoped he’d been gentle enough.

          “A mother hopes you know but somehow I knew I’d never see him again,” she sighed as tears began to well up in her eyes.

          “We’re very sorry for you loss and we know this is difficult but do you think you could answer some questions?”  The G-man wondered.

          “I can try but I’m not sure what else I could tell you than what I told the original investigating detectives,” Mrs. Sanderson said.

          “It’s ok, even the smallest thing could help,” he smiled.  She nodded and he continued,

          “Did your son have any enemies?”

          “He wasn’t always on his best behavior but Reggie kept his nose clean.  I couldn’t think of anyone who would want to hurt him,” she told them.

          “What did your son do for a living?”  Brennan asked.  The question was simple enough but Booth wondered where she was going with this.

          “He worked in construction,” Mrs. Sanderson was a little puzzled herself.

          “Who for?”  Booth now understood why his partner went that way.

          “Vinny Scarpini,” she said.

          “What did he do for Vinny?” Brennan wanted to know.

          “He did concrete and occasionally ran errands for him.  Do you think Vinny had something to do with Reggie’s death?”  Mrs. Sanderson asked.

          “We don’t know but it’s important we get the full story so we can better understand your son’s movements,” he told her.  With that he handed the woman his card and the two partners excused themselves.  Once inside the SUV, Booth called Agent Blachura.


	6. Chapter 6

**Scarpini Construction, Tuesday at 12:30 pm**

          “So my assistant tells me you want to talk.  What I can do for the FBI today?”  Vinny asked.

          “Reggie Sanderson’s body was discovered in the desert on Saturday.  We know he worked for you so we were wondering what kind of worker Reggie was,” Booth smiled politely knowing that they were in front of one of Phoenix’s biggest crime bosses.  Suspicions and accusations but no convictions for Vinny, someone else always managed to take the fall.  Witnesses had a way of disappearing and prosecutors had been threatened.

          “You found Reggie?  Wow.  He’s been gone for a couple of years,” Vinny avoided Booth’s question.

          “Three years actually,” Brennan corrected.

          “Three?  Has it been that long?  Wow.  You know Reggie was a good guy.  I could always count on him making sure the cement looked nice.  These new kids I’ve hired just don’t get the craftsmanship end of it,” Scarpini replied.

          “Do you know if Reggie happened to owe anybody money?  Did he ever ask for an advance on his paycheck?”  Booth tried to shift the focus of the conversation back to the victim.

          “He did once.  Said his mom needed surgery and the insurance only covered part of it.  So I gave him a couple of paychecks in advance to make sure he could still pay the other bills.  His mom has had a lot of leg problems after that horrible car crash she was in about five years back.  They had to cut her out of the car, poor lady,” Vinny explained.

          “How much did you give him?”  The G-man wanted to know.

          “Five grand,” Vinny answered simply.

          “Five grand?  Did he still owe you money when he disappeared?”  Booth asked.

          “He didn’t owe me any money.  It was an advance on his paycheck,” Scarpini reminded him.

          “Do you remember anything about the day Reggie disappeared?”  Booth wondered.

          “Only that I read about his disappearance the next day in the paper.  I had just gotten back from a business trip and my assistant pointed it out when I got into the office that morning,” Vinny smiled.

          “Thank you for your time.  We’ll be in touch,” Booth smiled back and they headed out to the SUV.

          “Funny how Mrs. Sanderson forgot to mention the five thousand dollar loan Reggie got from his boss,” her partner said as he fired the vehicle up and then directed it to the road.

          “Maybe she didn’t know it was a loan.  You heard Vinny it was an advance on his paycheck,” Brennan turned to him in her seat.

          “A guy like that doesn’t give you five thousand dollars out of the kindness of his heart.  There was either something he wanted Reggie to do in return or he wanted his money back, with interest,” Booth explained.

          “Ok so what’s next?”  The forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “We need Agent Blachura to do a little research on Vinny’s company and see where exactly they poured cement,” he told her.

          “Ah because you think someone might have ended up like Cement Head,” Brennan now understood his reasoning.

          “Exactly,” Booth nodded.

**Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Tuesday at 3:00 pm (Eastern Time)**

          Simon stood staring at the X-rays of Reggie Sanderson’s knees inside the bone storage room.  The scrapings on the bones were unusual and he had yet to figure out what kind of tool had been used.  Knowing that the victim had worked in construction had helped narrow down the tools that could have been used but there were still a lot to sift through.

          “I think I may have something for you,” Angela said as she entered the room.  The intern had been so lost in thought that he jumped a little.

          “You ok?”  She asked.

          “Yes, I just had my mind off in another place.  Now what were you saying?”  Simon wanted to know.

          “I may have an answer for what animal bit our victim,” the forensic artist explained.

          “Excellent.  Let’s go to your office,” he smiled and let her lead the way.

          “So why call us in here?  I’m still trying to identify how old our prickly plant friend was,” Hodgins complained.

          “Because I may have broken the case open,” Angela gave him a wink and the entomologist showed a renewed interest.

          “The bit marks on the femur had Simon puzzled so I ran a comparison between the bite marks and domesticated dogs,” she explained as she used her controller to pull up the image on the Angelator.

          “Simon said there was no tissue embedded in the wounds which made me wonder if the bite occurred after our victim had been dead and mostly decayed,” the forensic artist continued.

          “Like a dog dug up our vic and used his femur as a chew toy?”  Cam wondered.

          “Exactly.  Watch,” hitting a series of buttons, she brought up a replay of how the incident had possibly occurred.  Reggie Sanderson’s skeleton had a red line to indicate the angle of the bite and the angle at which a dog would have to strike.

          “Look at the angle of the bites and the possibility of our victim having been standing at the time,” Angela continued.

          “They don’t match.  In fact it’d be near impossible,” Simon said.

          “Exactly.  Now if he were laying down,” she told the group.  The image changed in front of them and the angle lines shifted.

          “So he was lying down when he was bitten,” Cam nodded as the lines matched.

          “It indicates that the dog that bit the femur was in fact a German Shepard not a coyote,” Angela pointed out.

          “I’d better call Dr. Brennan,” Simon told them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Phoenix FBI Field Office, Tuesday at 2:00 pm (Mountain Time)**

                Brennan had just received a phone call from Simon as Agent Blachura was delving into the search for concrete jobs that Scarpini’s company had worked on.  Booth wondered how long the research would take.  He was worried that Scarpini would destroy any evidence he could get his hands on that wasn’t actually buried in concrete; that included witnesses.

          “Simon says that Angela discovered the bite marks to be from a German Shepard.  Also he believes that Sanderson was dead when the dog bit him,” the forensic anthropologist told them.

          “How dead?”  Booth asked.

          “Dead enough that the gouges contained no tissue,” she explained.

          “So that would explain why we found his whole body in the desert.  Somebody’s pet dug up the bones and was using them as a chew toy,” Cary said.

          “That seems the most plausible the only problem is we haven’t met anyone with a German Shepard,” Booth was unsure how the evidence helped.

          “All pets must be registered with the town they live in.  I can pull animal registrations and narrow the search to German Shepards,” Cary told him.

          “Excellent.  Add that to the list of things we need,” he smiled slightly.  It was then that his cell phone went off.  He pulled from his suit coat pocket and answered it.

          “Booth,” Brennan watched his facial expression change.  It didn’t look as though the call was a good one.

          “We’ll be right down,” her partner hung up and turned to her.

          “There has been an incident at county lockup,” 

          “What kind of incident?”  Brennan wanted to know. 

          “The Sheriff didn’t get specific only that we’d better get over there,” he explained.

          “I’ll call you when I get something,” Blachura promised as they headed out to the SUV.

**County Lockup, Tuesday at 2:45 pm (Mountain Time)**

                “What happened?”  Booth asked Chambliss as they entered the main office of the holding center.

          “Billy Bob was shanked in his cell this afternoon.  He’s been rushed to the hospital.  The paramedics weren’t sure if he’s going to make it,” the Deputy shook his head.

          “They were only arraigned on a misdemeanor.  How did they not make bail?”  The G-man wanted to know.

          “David’s folks could get the money but Billy Bob’s was still working on it apparently.  We’re trying to figure out who did it but it could take awhile.  Forensics is looking for fingerprints and the weapon,” Chambliss told them.

          “Where is the Sheriff?”  Brennan asked, curious as to why he had called Booth but wasn’t there.

          “He rode with the ambulance.  He’ll never forgive himself if Billy Bob doesn’t make it,” the Deputy shook his head.

          “Do you know if there are any associates of Vinny Scarpini in here?”  Booth wondered.

          “I can check.  Why would a mobster like that want somebody like Billy Bob dead?  The kid had nothing to do with the murder of your victim,” Chambliss was confused.

          “No but he discovered the body.  That would be motive enough to want the kid gone.  Here they thought the body wouldn’t be noticed and now it’s made the headlines.  We’ve already talked with Scarpini and its possible he doesn’t want one of his secret operations compromised by all the extra publicity.  Even if Billy Bob doesn’t know anything, a guy like Scarpini won’t take chances,” Booth pointed out.

          “I’d better sent a patrol car to David’s place.  I don’t want another college kid ending up in the hospital,” Chambliss grabbed his radio and called the dispatcher.  A car was sent out to the residence of David Masiello and the deputy got a list of inmates that were currently being held in lockup.

          “I’ll have Agent Blachura check into this list.  We’d better get over there and help her out.  Call me if Billy Bob’s condition improves,” Booth told the Deputy.

          “You got it.  I’ll have Forensics send the evidence to the FBI Lab,” the officer nodded.  Quickly the two exited the building and headed back to their car.

**Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Tuesday at 5:00 pm (Eastern Time)**

          “I think I figured out how old the cactus was,” Hodgins said as he approached Simon on the platform.

          “Fascinating,” Cam said sarcastically.

          “Yes, it was actually.  But I’m not sure how this helps us because I determined the cactus was in fact already standing when Reggie Sanderson was buried at it’s base,” the entomologist remarked.

          “It could mean that the cactus was used as landmark.  Perhaps it would make the body easier to find for whoever buried it,” the intern remarked.

          “I guess but doesn’t that seem weird?”  Hodgins wondered.

          “Well the sheer size of a full grown giant saguaro cactus is enormous.  Being a protected species our killer probably thought that was the safest place to do it.  I mean if there hadn’t been two drunk college kids shooting at them, we never would have found the body,” Cam said.

          “Good point.  I’m still trying to see if there were any soil samples of use on the bones but so far no luck.  The sand and conditions did a number on any samples that were left,” Jack explained.

          “Well keep looking.  We still have to identify the tool markings on the kneecaps,” Simon shook his head, obviously frustrated.

          “Call Dr. Brennan and alert her to what we have,” Cam told the entomologist before he headed off the platform.


	8. Chapter 8

**David Masiello and Billy Bob Henry’s Apartment, Wednesday at 3:00 am (Mountain Time)**

          Things were quiet in the middle of the week in the wee hours of the morning, which made it relatively easy for a car to drive in front of the old house, which had been converted into two apartments, an upper and a lower.  Both college kids lived in the first floor residence, upstairs lived an immigrant family whose oldest son went to college with the two boys.  The two men in the car made note of the police car parked out front but it didn’t deter them from their task.  Parking the vehicle, the two exited the beat up jalopy and went up the front steps.  Quickly, they jimmied the lock on the door and entered the apartment.  They found themselves in an empty living room and moved toward the hallway.  The light was on in the first room on the left hand side.  It without doubt contained the police officer.  Once he was out of the way, they would move onto David’s room down the hall.

          The taller one entered the kitchen and the officer immediately grabbed his sidearm off the table.  However, he wasn’t fast enough and the bullet leaving the silenced weapon in the man’s hand struck him in the chest.  He fell down with a thud and cried out.  He was wearing a vest.  The officer took aim and fired at the men.  One was struck in the shoulder but his second shot missed the other man completely.  Quickly the two headed out into the hallway.

          The loud noise had woken the family upstairs and David came out of his room.  No doubt someone had called the cops as sirens could be heard in the distance.  The uninjured man took a few shots at the college student but he ducked back inside his room.  The officer assigned to watch him fired his weapon at the men, dropping one of them.  The other was gone in a flash, jumping back inside the old car and racing off down the street.

          “What is going on?”  The father of the family upstairs entered the apartment afraid for the two inside.

          “Mr. Lee please call the police,” David urged him as he was kneeling down next to the officer.

          “My wife has called them.  They are on their way,” the Chinese man promised.  He quickly took a look at the downed hit man and determined he was too far gone to help.  Then he moved to the two others.

          “Are you hurt?”  He asked David.

          “No, I’m all right.  I’m afraid Officer Daniels isn’t,” the boy told him.

          “I’ll be fine.  Just a few cracked ribs,” Daniels was in obvious pain but he wasn’t bleeding.

          “I’m glad you had your vest on,” David smiled as he carefully tried to help him sit up with the help of Mr. Lee. 

          “My wife will be too,” the officer smiled.  It was then that they heard the front door slam open and someone calling out to Daniels.

          “In the kitchen!”  David called.

          “Good God Daniels.  I live you alone for one night and look what happens,” the second officer, whose nametag said Spinelli, teased trying to lighten the mood despite the obvious bullet hole in his partner’s chest.

          “That’ll teach you Jerry,” Daniels tried to laugh but it hurt.

          “An ambulance is on its way but I guess I’d better get the coroner too,” Spinelli commented.

          “The bastard shot me and tried to kill David,” Daniels explained as he pointed to the hole in his shirt before pulling the mashed bullet out of it.

          “I see that,” Spinelli nodded.  “I’ll get out front and direct traffic.  Meantime, don’t move until the medics have a look at you.”  His partner nodded and quickly Spinelli went back outside. 

          “Looks like you’ll have to go into protective custody,” Daniels said to the college student.  David grimaced.  He’d hoped that he would have been able to avoid that but now it seemed inevitable.

          Within an hour, Booth and Brennan arrived on the scene and where greeted by Officer Chambliss.

          “Why are we here?”  Brennan wanted to know.  She knew that there couldn’t be another skeleton to look at.

          “This man and another man tried to assassinate David and kill Officer Daniels,” Chambliss pointed to the corpse on the floor.

          “Seems Daniels was a good shot,” Booth remarked noting the entry wounds in both the man’s stomach chest.

          “Somewhat, we have forensics digging some bullets out of the walls.  Anyway, the man who got away was bleeding and we’ve alerted area hospitals.  No one got plate numbers on the getaway vehicle but we caught him blowing through a red light down the block, so we may get lucky.  But this was something we thought both of you needed to see,” the Deputy took them over to the window. Next door in the yard was a German Shepard on a run.  The animal was pacing back and forth and occasionally jumping up to see what was going on the other side of the fence separating the two homes.  Booth pulled out the list he’d received from Agent Blachura.  The address matched a man named Charles Reed.

          “Seems we have to go talk to Mr. Reed.  He’s had Vinny Scarpini pour cement for him at a few job sites,” the G-man said.

          “What are the chances the guy is our killer?”  Brennan asked.

          “Slim as Mr. Reed has no record according to our list but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t had some people do things for him.  Shall we?”  Booth wondered.

          “I’m coming with you,” Chambliss told them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Charles Reed’s House, Wednesday at 5:00 am (Mountain Time)**

          “Mr. Reed, this is the FBI, please open the door,” Booth knocked on the door.  He’d been knocking for almost five minutes.  The man had to be home at this hour since his day job was nine to five at an accounting office.  What troubled him more was that he’d left the dog outside.  It got cold in the desert at night.  No way any loving pet owner left their pet outside when the temps dipped below forty degrees.

          “All right, seems we need to knock it down,” the G-man indicated to the door as he pulled out his weapon.  Officer Chambliss nodded and grabbed his sidearm as well.  Then he moved next to the federal agent and the two kicked it in.  The door had been locked and Booth was glad to have the officer’s help.

          “Bones, stay back,” he didn’t even know why he said it as the forensic anthropologist gave him a look before continuing on directly behind him.  Even without her large caliber handgun, she wasn’t afraid.

          “Looks like somebody left in a hurry,” Chambliss pointed to the mess on the floor as they moved through the living room and into the dining room.  A computer had been unplugged and removed from the desk in the corner of the living room and clothes and shoes lay about on the furniture and floor.

          “Or he was in the middle of doing the laundry when someone busted in,” Booth smirked and headed into the kitchen.

          “Clear in there and the refrigerator is empty except for some ketchup,” the G-man said as he moved back into the hallway where Chambliss now stood.

          “Bathroom and den are empty but also a mess.  Time to head upstairs,” the officer told him.

          “All right.  Bones stay here please,” Booth begged her.  She only nodded.  She seemed fascinated with something on the now empty desk.  The two left her standing there as they headed upstairs.  They made quick work of the five rooms and discovered the bedroom closet to be empty and the medicine chest in the bathroom was missing the usual toiletries.

          “He’s gone.  Somebody spooked him enough that he took off,” Chambliss shook his head as he holstered his weapon.

          “He left his dog though.  Why go through the trouble of packing clothes, supplies, and your computer but leave the dog?”  Booth asked as he did the same.  They headed back downstairs to find Brennan had moved from the desk to the other side of the room.  She had rubber gloves on and had turned on the lights.

          “I have no idea.  What do you have Dr. Brennan?”  Chambliss wondered.

          “Blood.  Not a large amount but enough to have been more than just a paper cut,” Brennan explained.

          “Is that your professional opinion or a guess?”  Booth was teasing her and she gave him a look.

          “A paper cut would not be large enough to leave a blood trail.  It starts at the desk and moves back and forth across the room until it reaches the fireplace,” she pointed it out on the floor and the two men took a look.  The drops did seem to follow a back and forth pattern but why they stopped at the fireplace didn’t make any sense.  Booth squatted in front of the fireplace and looked around in the ashes.  It had been used recently, perhaps to cover something up or possibly cauterize whatever was losing blood.

          “I’m calling a forensics team in.  We need to identify whose blood this is and if they used one of the fire pokers to stop the bleeding,” he said.

          “Do we put an APB out on Reed?”  Chambliss asked.

          “I wouldn’t.  It could tell Scarpini and his gang that the guy is running.  For all we know, he knows too much.  They’ll probably track him down and kill him before we get to question him if they haven’t already,” Booth told him as he pulled out his phone.  Within a few moments he was talking to Agent Blachura.

          “I need to see the dog,” Brennan said.

          “I’ll go out with you.  I’m guessing you want to get a mold of his teeth,” Chambliss smiled.

          “Yes.  You’ll have to take the dog into custody of course.  I don’t have the molding materials with me,” the forensic anthropologist told him as they walked to the back door.

          “Would it be better if we ship him to the Jeffersonian?”  The officer smirked at his own remark and opened the door for her.

          “That might not be a bad idea,” Brennan said seriously.  The dog turned to see the two exiting the back door and immediately barked.  Not a threatening bark, which surprised the two of them.

          “Hi buddy,” Chambliss smiled and carefully stuck his hand out as he approached the dog from the side.  Surprisingly, the dog met him and leaned up against him.

          “He’s very friendly,” Brennan approached them and the dog let her pet him.

          “Kind of surprising for a German Shepard.  They tend to be more aggressive which is what makes them a good police dog,” Chambliss said as he looked at the collar.

          “True but this dog was obviously not trained that way,” she commented.

          “Champ.  Original,” the police officer rolled his eyes.  Champ’s eyes lit up when he heard his name.  Brennan took the opportunity to grab a nearby tennis ball.  Champ got all excited and opened his mouth.  His canines looked sharp which meant that him biting the femur was quite likely.  She lightly tossed the ball and Champ took off after it.

          “He has a lot of energy considering being outside in this weather,” Brennan commented.

          “He certainly does.  I’ll go see if we can’t find a leash and we’ll get him down to headquarters,” Chambliss told her before ducking back toward the house.


	10. Chapter 10

**Phoenix Police Headquarters, Wednesday at 8:00 am Mountain Time**

                Booth was busy talking to the Sheriff while Officer Chambliss and CSI Oliver Mendoza helped Brennan with Champ at the Phoenix Forensics Lab.  The German Shepard had to be sedated in order to make the mold of his mouth but the forensic anthropologist figured his friendly personality would have made things easy.  Protocol was protocol however and they did things the way they needed to be done.

          “I need these bite impressions sent to the Jeffersonian immediately.  They’ll tell us whether or not Reggie Sanderson was buried at Charles Reed’s house,” she said.

          “Right away Dr. Brennan,” Oliver smiled and carefully wrapped them for transportation through the mail service.

          “What will happen to Champ?”  Brennan turned to Officer Chambliss.

          “Well even if you prove he bit Reggie Sanderson’s leg, he did it after the guy was dead, long after, if I understand your explanation of it, so there should be no reason he couldn’t go back to Charles Reed.  That is of course unless we prove he had something to do with the murder of Reggie Sanderson.  Then he’ll go next of kin,” he explained.

          “I see.  And of there is no next of kin?”  She wondered.

          “He’ll be sent to the SPCA.  I’m sure someone will be willing to adopt this adorable pooch.  Meantime, Oliver will take good care of him,” he smiled and then headed out of the room and toward the patrol car.  She followed and they made the short drive to Police Headquarters.

          “So how’d things go with Champ?”  Booth asked as they walked through the door and into Sheriff Bosch’s office.

          “Well.  The bite impressions are being sent to the Jeffersonian as we speak,” Brennan smiled as she took a seat next to him.

          “Excellent.  The Sheriff was just telling me about Charles Reed,” her partner smiled back.

          “Charlie owns three tax places around the city.  They’re called Tax Hut.  Now Agent Booth put us in touch with Agent Blachura and she’s getting us some of those underground radar pieces of equipment.  Teams of FBI forensic guys are going to check all the places at those facilities where Vinny Scarpini had had Reggie pour concrete.  If we’re lucky, we’ll find something and be able to bring Scarpini in for questioning,” Bosch explained.

          “How did you get a warrant for that?”  Chambliss wondered.

          “We got permission from Charlie’s second in command.  He doesn’t want any more trouble.  Besides if Charlie goes to prison, he gets sole control of the business,” Booth said.

          “Ah there’s an ulterior motive if I’ve ever seen one,” Chambliss smirked.

          “And what about Billy Bob?”  Brennan asked.

          “He’s stable.  I have two guards outside his room until he can be released to our custody,” Bosch told them.

          “Caroline has agreed to put them into Witness Protection and reduce their offenses to a fine,” Booth added.

          “What about the blood at Reed’s place?”  Chambliss wanted to know.

          “The blood type matches Charlie but until we get DNA we can’t confirm it’s his.  At any rate we have an unknown set of fingerprints on one of the fire pokers that the FBI is running through their databases to see if they match anyone,” Bosch said.

          “It would be nice to have evidence to question Scarpini with,” Booth heaved a sigh.

          “I’d like to back that son of a bitch into a corner.  I can’t tell you how many times we’ve tried to get him and how many times he manages to slip away,” the Sheriff pounded on his desk with his fist.

          “With any luck my team will call soon with what we’re looking for,” Brennan told them confidently.  Just then her cell phone rang; she had a smug look on her face as she picked it up.

          “Brennan,”

          “Dr. Brennan, its Simon.  I’ve managed to discover what removed the kneecaps.  Gouges match a carpenter’s knife and a drywall putty knife,” the intern said excitedly.

          “Excellent work Simon.  Can you send images to my e-mail?”  She asked.

          “Right away.  Also you should know that Hodgins couldn’t retrieve anything from the soil samples.  The sand stripped away anything of use.  All he says he has is “common everyday Arizona dirt”,” he told her.

          “I understand.  Thanks,” she hung up and everyone in the room was staring at her.

          “According to Simon the kneecaps were removed with a carpenter’s knife and a drywall putty knife.  Although I’m not sure how it applies to concrete,” the forensic anthropologist explained.

          “It doesn’t.  It deals with the other half of his construction business,” Chambliss said.

          “So he had someone kill Reggie, remove his kneecaps, and bury him.  How does Charlie Reed play into this?” The Sheriff asked.

          “They had him bury Reggie’s body in his yard.  Perhaps as a reminder to keep his mouth shut.  Ten to one, Charles know something about a person buried in the concrete at his office buildings.  Having Reggie in his backyard makes him not go to the police,” Booth offered.

          “What would stop him?  I mean if he didn’t kill anyone why wouldn’t go to the police?”  Brennan wondered.

          “My guess is Vinny killed someone for Charles and then he asked Charles to kill someone for him,” Chambliss suggested.

          “Charles Reed has no weapon registered in his name.  Reggie Sanderson was shot in the back of the head with a nine millimeter handgun,” Bosch reminded them.

          “Nothing but wild speculation until we find Charles Reed,” Brennan shook her head.

          “I just hope we find him before Vinny does,” Booth said.


	11. Chapter 11

**Tax Hut Location Number 3, Wednesday at 3:00 pm Mountain Time**

          “Agent Booth, over here,” his Phoenix counterpart called as he and Dr. Brennan exited the SUV.  The Sheriff and Chambliss had followed behind them in the sheriff’s car.  Apparently, the evidence they needed was right under the concrete sidewalk.

          “We picked up this on the Ground Penetrating Radar,” Blachura pointed to a picture on the screen of the piece of equipment.

          “What do you think Bones?”  Booth turned to her.  She studied the picture for a few minutes before answering him.

          “I’d say that you’ve got a humerus.  Anyone have a jackhammer?”  Booth nodded and called over to the forensic team.

          “I want all this busted up and all the body parts found.  Get it to the coroner ASAP,” The team got working and Brennan turned to her partner.

          “So are we going to speak to Scarpini again?”

          “Yes we are.  Sheriff you want to tag along?”  The G-man wondered.

          “Yes I do,” Bosch nodded.  The quartet quickly hopped back into their separate vehicles and headed for Scarpini Construction.

**Scarpini Construction, Wednesday at 4:00 pm Mountain Time**

          When the group arrived at the business the front door was locked and all the lights were off.

          “A little strange for a Wednesday afternoon, don’t you think?”  Booth asked.

          “I’ll say,” Bosch commented.

          “Booth, look at this,” Brennan called his attention to a spot of something on the ground.

          “Looks like blood,” he said as she went to the SUV and retrieved her kit.  Opening the kit, she removed a cotton swab and a squeeze bottle of Phenolphthalein.  Testing the sample she took, she confirmed her partner’s suspicions.

          “Blood it is.  Odd that this drop forms into a trail; they look as though they have directionality,” the forensic anthropologist seemed puzzled.

          “Could be our missing shooter from David’s apartment,” Chambliss said.

          “Could be.  Either way that’s more than enough probable cause to enter the premises,” Bosch told them.  All three men pulled out their standard issue weapons and walked around the side of the building to avoid smashing the glass door and alerting anyone inside that someone was there.

          The back door was wooden and Booth easily kicked it in.  Quickly the three men entered the building with Brennan right behind them.

          “Vinny Scarpini FBI!”  Booth shouted out.  There was no response and they shifted their focus around the office.  The receptionist’s desk was empty and the door to Vinny’s office was closed and there was no light on anywhere.  Fanning out all the spaces were checked and found to be empty.  Booth whipped out his cell phone and phoned the agents at the Tax Hut. 

          “We need a team to look at a blood trail and search for anything else involving drywall tools.  I want an APB out on Scarpini,” he said.  He must have gotten a satisfactory response as he hung up right away.

          “I’ll call in the boys and get roadblocks set up.  He’s wanted for murder and I’m not letting him get away,” Bosch told them.

          “Good.  Thanks Sheriff,” Booth smiled.  The change in Bosch’s behavior was duly noted and the G-man had his doubts.  He knew that leaving the last case open before retiring wasn’t something that any person in the business that long wanted but trying to convict two boys who had nothing to do with the crime wasn’t right either.  Somehow he had either been threatened or something.  He’d still not heard from Washington about the background info and he figured he’d call in the morning.

**The Coroner’s Office, Wednesday at 7:00 pm Mountain Time**

          “So what do we have here?”  Chambliss asked as the group arrived at the coroner’s office a little while later.

          “Male, early thirties, six foot, gunshot to the back of the head,” Dr. Riley said.

          “I concur.  One big difference from Reggie Sanderson is that this victim has his kneecaps,” Brennan pointed out.

          “So someone different killed this guy.  We know that if Charles Reed had killed Reggie he didn’t keep a trophy.  The search of his house didn’t find any kneecaps,” Booth told them.

          “Vinny probably has them,” Bosch shook his head.

          “I’m packaging everything for the Jeffersonian and Agent Blachura is already searching missing persons reports,” Dr. Riley let them know.

          “Good.  Hopefully we’ll get lucky with the roadblocks or the reports,” Booth heaved a sigh.  There was more info but it didn’t lead anywhere useful.

          “Can we lay this all out straight?  I’ve been left out of the loop,” the coroner asked.

          “Think you can offer any help?” Bosch wondered.

          “You never know,” Riley shrugged.

          “Well we’ve identified our first victim, found out that Vinny Scarpini “loaned” him money, and he somehow went from Charles Reed’s backyard to the desert,” Booth said.

          “Ok.  So what is this fella doing on my table?”  Riley wondered as he and Brennan began packing the skeleton up.

          “He was found under the sidewalk at one of the Tax Hut’s that Charles Reed owns.  We believe that Reggie killed this guy and buried him in the concrete for Vinny.  However what remains unclear is why Reggie ended up in Charles Reed’s backyard, where Charles Reed and Vinny Scarpini are, and the blood trails that the lab is busy trying to identify.  On top of that, the man who got away from David Masiello’s apartment after trying to kill him, is still on the loose,” Chambliss stepped in.

          “Where’d this guy get shot?”  Riley looked thoughtful as he stopped wrapping the body up.

          “We don’t know.  He never turned up at any hospitals,” Booth said.

          “That might not be entirely true,” the coroner told them.  He moved from behind the examination table and headed over to the wall of small freezer doors.  Out of the eight on the wall he opened the second on the left in the second row and pulled out the tray.

          “This guy was dumped at a hospital around one o’clock.  He was already dead so they called me to come pick him up.  Does he look familiar?”  Riley wondered.  They all walked over to take a look.

          “Son of a bitch,” Booth cursed.

          “That is Charles Reed,” Bosch shook his head.


	12. Chapter 12

**Phoenix Police Headquarters, Thursday at 9:00 am**         

          “So what do we have?”  Booth rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefingers.  They had just gotten together to straighten everything out but already he could feel a headache coming on.  He hadn’t slept much and Brennan had been up most of the night conversing with her team.  Reggie and the unidentified male had both been shot in the back of the head but Charles Reed had not.  He’d been shot in the stomach and was missing the pinky finger on his right hand. 

          “We have three dead guys, two college students in witness protection, a mobster on the loose, and the guy who shot at one of the college kids is bleeding somewhere,” Officer Chambliss told him from his seat in front of the Sheriff’s desk.  The FBI agent heaved a sigh.

          “Thanks,” he smirked.

          “He was quite accurate,” Brennan pointed out.

          “Yes well what does that get us?  We have an APB out on Vinny and all the hospitals have been alerted for gunshot victims.  Honestly that guy could be dead by now too,” Bosch was as frustrated as Booth was.

          “If I believed in luck, I would have to remind everyone that my team is working on the identity of the skeleton discovered in the sidewalk,” the forensic anthropologist had a smirk on her face.  That’s when her cell phone rang.

          “Dang she’s good,” Chambliss chuckled.

          “And she never lets me forget it,” Booth gave a laugh.  Bosch shook his head and left the room.

          “Where’s he going?”  The G-man asked.

          “Probably out for a smoke.  He quits and then he starts up again.  I think it’s the stress of the job,” the officer gave a shrug.  Booth nodded.  The job had its downsides but they were far outweighed by the upsides, at least for him. 

          “That was Angela.  Dental records confirm the victim in the sidewalk was Donald Mandrini and they also confirm that Champ bit Reggie Sanderson’s leg.  Does Mandrini match any of the records that Agent Blachura dug up?”  Brennan wondered.  This brought the two men over to the stack of files on the Sheriff’s desk.

          “How did they run those records so fast?”  Chambliss asked.

          “Overnight delivery and a two hour time delay.  It’s eleven am in D.C.,” the forensic anthropologist smiled. 

          “Donald Mandrini.  I found the file.  He was a gambler who owed Vinny a lot of money,” Booth waived the file in the air after he closed it and handed it to Chambliss.

          “I remember this guy.  He disappeared two years ago around the time Charles Reed opened the third Tax Hut location,” he said.

          “So Reed was in with Vinny for at least two years and that means he’d do anything Vinny told him to.  He was in deep enough that he let Scarpini bury not one but two bodies on his properties,” Booth now had a line of thought, which Brennan picked up on.

          “Which means that when David and Billy Bob found Reggie Sanderson, Charles Reed was in big trouble,” she said.

          “Very big trouble.  If there was any way to link Charles to Reggie then Reggie could be linked to Vinny,” Chambliss nodded.

          “Why does everyone look so excited?”  Sheriff Bosch asked as he walked back into his office.

          “There has to be some connection between Charles and Reggie.  I want the tax records of both men gone over with a fine tooth comb,” Booth told them.

          “I’ll get our forensic accountant on it,” Bosch picked up his desk phone and dialed the number he needed.

**Phoenix Forensics Lab, Thursday at 12:30 pm**

          Brennan walked into the Forensics Lab and was greeted by the receptionist who remembered her from her last visit.

          “Dr. Brennan, it’s good to see you.  Did you want to see CSI Mendoza?”  The middle-aged woman smiled.

          “Please,” the forensic anthropologist smiled back.  The receptionist went to the phone and dialed Mendoza’s number.  Brennan waited a few minutes before the Hispanic man walked out into the hallway.  He saw her and smiled.  Quickening pace, Mendoza came over to the desk and greeted the forensic anthropologist.

          “What brings you back down here Dr. Brennan?”  He wondered.

          “I received confirmation that Champ had in fact bitten our first victim.  His owner is dead and so far no one has come forward to claim his body yet.  I know it’s been only about eighteen hours since the news broke but…” Brennan trailed off.

          “Well we’ll hang onto him as long as the coroner’s office holds onto the body then he’ll go to the SPCA.  I’ve called in a vet to take a look at him tomorrow.  I think he’s in good enough health that he should be adopted quickly.  Champ is quite friendly.  That will help too,” Mendoza smiled.

          “I would like to adopt him if no one comes forward,” she told him.

          “I’ll call up the SPCA and find out what the procedure is.  I’m sure once the vet clears Champ, they won’t object.  You live in D.C. right?”  The CSI asked.

          “Yes.  It would be colder for him up there but I’m sure that he’ll enjoy playing in the snow,” the forensic anthropologist smiled.  Oliver laughed.

          “I’m sure he will.  I’ll give Agent Booth a call when the vet…”

          “Oh no,” she interrupted him, “please call my cell phone,” Brennan then gave him her number and he promised to call her.  Then her cell phone rang and she excused herself. 

          “Bones, the Sheriff got a call from St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center.  Our second shooter at David Masiello’s popped up.  The Sheriff is going down there to arrest him and we need to talk to him,” her partner explained.

          “Ok Booth.  I’ll be outside for you to pick me up,” she said.

          “You checking up on Champ?” he wondered.

          “Maybe I am,” Brennan told him.

          “You think we’re at the getting a pet stage?”  Booth asked.

          “Well I think it might be a good way to prepare for offspring,” there was no joking tone.  The FBI agent didn’t say anything before he heard the phone click.   The call disconnected, Booth shook his head.  She never failed to surprise him.  They would have to talk later.


	13. Chapter 13

**St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center, Phoenix, Arizona, Thursday at 3:30 pm**

          “Well well if it isn’t my old buddy Mike “The Strangler” Capicotto,” Sheriff Bosch smirked as he entered the ex-con’s hospital room.  Officer Chambliss, Agent Booth, and Dr. Brennan followed him in.

          “Oh Sheriff, you’re just in time, I was busy telling my client over the phone, not to say a word,” from behind them, a man in a suit stood in the doorway.

          “I should have known Jackson.  Wherever one of Scarpini’s boys are in trouble, you’re never far behind,” Bosch obviously knew who he was and Brennan made the logical deduction that he must be the attorney of the wounded man.

          “My client and I would like some time to talk, in private,” Jackson told them.  The Sheriff gave him a look but didn’t have much choice.  They filed back out of the room and into the hallway.  The door to the room was closed behind them.

          “Looks like our investigation just hit a dead-end,” Chambliss shook his head.

          “I’m still arresting him on the attempted murder of David Masiello and the murders of Charles Reed, Donald Mandrini, and Reggie Sanderson.  You can arrest him for the attempted murder of Officer Daniels,” Booth said.

          “True but I don’t think he’ll even roll on Scarpini enough to confirm he’s the one that ordered the hit on Billy Bob,” Bosch told him.

          “Seems to me that with the evidence found by my team, you could indict both Scarpini and Capicotto,” Brennan spoke up.

          “There in lies the problem.   We arrest both and Scarpini tells us it was all Capicotto’s doing.  Capicotto will agree, saying he did it and that his boss didn’t know and we’re right back to where we started,” Chambliss explained.

          “He’s right.  There has to be a way to nail Scarpini,” Bosch said.

          “The fact that he’s missing should be a big help.  I can issue a federal warrant for his arrest.  I can send his photo to Interpol.  Who is to say he didn’t already leave the country,” Booth’s brain was in overdrive.  Brennan loved to see that classic smile cross his face.

          “I like your thinking,” the Sheriff smiled.  Booth grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and quickly made a call to Agent Blachura.

          “Once we arrest Capicotto and the international alerts go out for Scarpini, I don’t see what you and Agent Booth will do here,” Chambliss turned to the forensic anthropologist.

          “With your forensic accountant on Charles and Reggie’s tax records and with the putty and carpenter’s knives still missing, I’m afraid not.  Although I am still waiting to hear from CSI Mendoza about Champ,” she replied.

          “So you are going to adopt him,” the officer smiled.

          “I am provided nothing comes up,” she smiled back.  Booth then returned to the group with a smile on his face but Brennan knew that it was his fake smile.  Something was going on and she hoped they would discuss it.

          “Interpol has been alerted and the national news has also been alerted.  I’d say it’s only a matter of time before Scarpini falls into somebody’s lap,” the G-man said.

          “Excellent,” Bosch nodded, “Now if you’ll excuse me,” the Sheriff walked into the patient’s room and informed both Capicotto and Jackson that they could continue their conversation at the prison infirmary.  The arrest was made and everyone went their separate ways.

          Once inside their rented SUV, Booth heaved a sigh.  Brennan could tell he was upset and she figured it would be best to let him speak before asking any questions.

          “That background check of the Sheriff came through,” was all he said.

          “I’m guessing by your tone, you don’t like it,” the forensic anthropologist looked at him as he fired up the vehicle.

          “Seems Sheriff Bosch was in debt to someone.  He had an influx of cash and then monthly big chunks of money were being deducted through ATM withdrawals,” he explained.

          “And you’re thinking it was Scarpini who he owed the money to,” she said.  His only response was to nod.


	14. Chapter 14

**Booth’s Hotel Room, Thursday at 6 pm**

          “So what do we do next?”  Brennan wondered as she popped off her high heels and sat down on the bed.  Her feet were killing her and she wondered what had possessed her to wear those very unsensible shoes.

          “I called Deputy Director Hacker.  He said to sit tight and that he’d make a few inquiries.  That works out since CSI Mendoza hasn’t gotten back to you,” her partner explained as he removed his suit coat and hung it up on the clothes bar outside the bathroom.

          “Andrew has those kinds of connections?”  The forensic anthropologist asked as she flopped onto the bed.

          “Apparently.  Maybe he’ll get the IRS looking into Sheriff Bosch’s last tax return.  That large cash deposit would certainly look hinky if he didn’t file it as income,” Booth said as he joined her.

          “I’m starving but I don’t feel like going anywhere,” Brennan effectively changed the subject.  As if he were agreeing, Booth’s stomach growled.

          “I think the last thing I had to eat today was a piece of gum around noon,” he said.

          “That doesn’t count as food unless you swallowed it,” she told him.

          “I was still chewing it an hour ago so no, I guess not,” the G-man replied.  Brennan crawled over to the nightstand and grabbed the small room service menu off the top.  She was used to spending her time in expensive hotels but since she and Booth had begun a romantic relationship, she had opted to stay near him.  She was now finding that a mistake as the rather lousy choices of food listed on the room service menu made her stomach less hungry.

          “Anything good Bones?”  Booth wondered as he tilted his head backward to look at her.

          “Not especially,” she replied.  He rolled his eyes and turned over onto his stomach before crawling over to meet her.

          “Seems everything on here has a taste of the Southwest in it,” he looked at the choices.

          “I was hoping for a little Italian, if they could manage it,” she sighed.

          “I’ll call the front desk,” Booth smiled and got off the bed.  He grabbed the phone and punched in the number for downstairs.  Brennan’s cell rang at that moment and she quickly picked it up.

          “Brennan,”

          “Dr. Brennan, it’s Oliver Mendoza.  I have the information you requested,”

          “That’s great.  What do I need to do?”  She asked.

          “Champ has been checked out and the vet has cleared him for travel.  All you need to do is come to the Forensics lab to pick up the paperwork, fill it out, and then I’ll return it to the SPCA.  Then we’ll have to wait for them to get back to us.  I told them this was kind of a rush job since I didn’t know when you’d be leaving for D.C.,” the crime scene investigator told her.

          “Can I pick up the paperwork now?”  Brennan wanted to know.

          “Yes.  I don’t get off shift until eight so as long we do it before I leave, then I will take the paperwork to the SPCA first thing in the morning,” he explained.

          “Thank you very much.  See you soon,” with that the call ended and she shut her phone.

          “Good news?”  Booth was smiling.

          “Yes, we must get down to the Forensics Lab,” Brennan told him.

          “All right.  I talked to the guy at the front desk and he says there is a nice Italian place not far from here.  He gave me directions so we can head there after we get done at the Forensics Lab,” her partner continued to smile.

          “Excellent.  Let’s go!”  The forensic anthropologist was excited and Booth loved seeing her that way.  The last time she tried to get a dog, things hadn’t gone so well.  Quickly the two got their shoes back on and grabbed their coats before heading out to the SUV.

          Booth pulled the large vehicle out of the hotel driveway and headed down the red light.  The light changed green before they got down there and they continued on down to the next light, which wasn’t that far down the road.  It turned red and Booth went to depress the brake.  The car did not slow and he began pumping the brakes despite having ABS.  Then the dash lit up as two indicator lights came on.  One meaning, he had no brake fluid, and the second indicating that the ABS system was not responding.  The next thing he tried to do was use the emergency brake.  A third indicator light came on to tell him it failed.  The light was still red as they approached it and the distance between them and the light was closing fast.  Unfortunately despite taking his foot off the gas, they weren’t going to stop before passing into the intersection.

          “Hang on Bones!  I’m going to try something!”  He yanked the wheel to the right hoping the SUV would make the turn into an empty parking lot.  It did but he took the sharp turn at about thirty miles an hour.  It was too fast and the SUV flipped over onto the driver’s side.

          “Booth!”  Brennan shouted.  When she got no reply, she unbuckled herself and almost fell on top of him.  That’s when she smelled gasoline.


	15. Chapter 15

**Scene of the Accident, Thursday at 7 pm**

          Brennan took little comfort in the fact that CSI Mendoza was expecting them.  She knew that she had to get her partner out of the car before the situation escalated.  Pushing the eject button on his seat belt, she was relieved to see it dislodge like it was supposed to. 

          “Booth,” once again she tried his name but got no response.  The forensic anthropologist moved her right arm and found that a shooting pain erupted from her chest.  Cracked ribs and deep bruising from the force of the impact between her body and the seat belt and from her slight fall almost on top of her partner.

          Then she heard sirens in the distance.  Heaving a small sigh of relief, someone had dialed nine-one-one.  It was a good thing too because she had no idea where her cell phone and purse had ended up.  Once again the smell of gasoline invaded her nostrils and she gagged.  Chiding herself for losing focus, she turned back to the task at had.

          Booth was too heavy for her to push back out of the passenger window the other option would be to drag him over the seats and head for the SUV’s rear window.  Quickly she looked for the seat reclining lever.  It was lying crushed up against the driver’s side door.  That wouldn’t work and the only option left would be to try to bring him to the passenger side of the car.  Carefully she positioned her arms around her unconscious partner and tried to pull.  Her ribs and chest screamed but she tried to ignore it.  Again she tried to pull and he moved slightly.  Repeatedly she made small movements until her chest felt it was going to explode.  Then she heard voices and the sounds of the sirens getting louder.

          “In here!”  She screamed.  Looking up at the passenger window she saw a man who smiled at her and then he motioned for her to help him open the door.  Reluctantly, Brennan let go of Booth and squirmed her way over to the door.  Grabbing the door latch handle she popped it and the man pulled on the outside to open it.

          “Is it just the two of you in here?”  He asked.

          “Yes,” she replied.

          “Ok, I’ll help you out and then we’ll get your boyfriend.  More help is on the way,” the Good Samaritan explained and she didn’t bother to correct him.  Brennan didn’t want to leave her partner but the only way to get him out was for her to get out.  She and the man worked as fast as they could and soon she was free of the vehicle.  Then the man carefully climbed inside the SUV. 

          The police arrived shortly after the man entered the vehicle.  One went to Brennan and the rest focused on the vehicle.  Firefighters and ambulances were close behind.

          “Dr. Brennan, what happened?”  She immediately recognized Officer Chambliss.

          “Someone tampered with our rental vehicle.  Booth did everything he could to avoid a crash but I don’t know how we ended up like this.  Just get Booth out of the car,” her normally organized brain was all over the place.  Chambliss nodded and rushed to help the others.  Within a minute the three officers and Good Samaritan had her partner out of the vehicle.  Quickly everyone backed up and let the firefighters foam the SUV to avoid any fire scenarios. 

          Booth was rushed to the first ambulance and Brennan climbed in after him.  She wasn’t about to let them be alone.  The paramedics looked him over as the ambulance screamed its way down the road toward St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center, where they’d been only hours before.

          “Head trauma and I’ve got what looks to be a gunshot in the left side,” one of the paramedics said.

          “A gunshot?”  Brennan couldn’t believe it.  Although it would explain why he hadn’t been in the right frame of mind when the accident occurred.  She had assumed he would have tried to downshift the vehicle in an attempt to force it to slow but that hadn’t happened.  She tried going back through the accident in her head but she couldn’t seem to get a clear picture.  One minute they had been talking and then the next…

          “His pulse is weak and thready.  He’s lost a lot of blood,” the second paramedic’s tone wasn’t good.

          “We’re almost there.  Hang on buddy,” the first paramedic looked at Brennan, hoping to God he didn’t have her boyfriend crash on them in the ambulance.  They arrived at the hospital, thirty minutes after the accident.  Booth was rushed into surgery and Brennan was forced to have a doctor look at her.

**St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center, Thursday at 9 pm**

          The doctors had taken care of Brennan very thoroughly.  They had wrapped bandages snugly around her damaged ribs and cleaned up the minor cuts and scrapes.  Dr. Tulane had explained that she would probably have some pain in her neck from possible whiplash and was waiting for her CAT scan results.  He feared a minor concussion due to the fact that the events of the accident were not clear and that she had been squinting to avoid full exposure to the fluorescent lights.

          “What about my partner, Agent Booth?”  She asked.

          “He should be out of surgery soon,” he smiled but didn’t give her any more details.

          “Where can I wait for him?”  Brennan wanted to know.

          “I’ll talk to the nurses and find out.  Now try to relax a little.  The pain medication is working but I can’t have you over stressing yourself,” again Tulane smiled before leaving the room.  Brennan didn’t like being kept in the dark and had her ribs and head not bothered her so perhaps she would have yelled at the doctor and demanded that she see Booth.  However considering he wasn’t out of surgery all it would have done was cause a ruckus.

          “Dr. Brennan, how are you feeling?”  Officer Chambliss knocked on her door.  She winced and invited him in.

          “I’ll be better when I know how Booth is,” she told him.  He nodded and gave a slight smile.

          “We’ve impounded the car and the FBI lab techs are looking at it.  We’ll know more in a few hours.  Can you give me any details about the accident?”  He wondered.

          “I know that the brakes failed and I know something else must have gone wrong because Booth was shot,” the forensic anthropologist said.

          “He was shot?”  Chambliss couldn’t believe it.  That’s when Doctor Tulane entered the room and interrupted the conversation.

          “Agent Booth will be on the next floor very soon.  I’ll have the nurse come and get you.  Now Officer if you would please stop hassling my patient,”

          “No problem Doc,” Chambliss nodded to Brennan and left the room.  He quickly pulled out his cell and called up Agent Blachura.  Hopefully she had some leads he could track down.


	16. Chapter 16

**FBI Lab, Phoenix, Arizona, Thursday at 11:30 pm**

          The FBI lab technicians were still combing the car for evidence a few hours after the accident.  CSI Mendoza offered to pitch in, as he felt bad that the partners had been on their way to see him when the accident happened.

          “How long have you been doing this?”  A female red haired technician, named Jamie, asked him.

          “Ten years.  I’ve seen a lot but this scene has me puzzled,” Oliver admitted from his chair at the computer station.

          “I may not have been here that long but I’m right there along with you.  Why shoot Agent Booth when the car was already in distress?”  She placed her gloved hands on her hips and looked at the driver’s side door.

          “An experienced driver like Agent Booth would have known to downshift when the brakes failed.  Instead he chose to jerk the vehicle into the nearby parking lot,” he shook his head.

          “Maybe we’re looking at this wrong.  Where is the printout of the car’s computer system?”  Jamie wanted to know as she walked over to him.  Oliver handed it over and she read through it for the third time that evening.

          “The computer noted that the brakes failed at six thirty-five pm,” she indicated by pointing to the front end of the vehicle.

“At six thirty-six, the emergency brake failed,” she said as she was still standing there.

“Then at six thirty-seven pm, it noted that there was a malfunction in the electric window controls on the driver’s side rear door.  That was because the circuit was cut when the bullet passed through the driver’s door and into Agent Booth,” Jamie walked over to the driver’s side of the car and pointed at the bullet hole.  Oliver followed her logic and walked over to her.

“It also notes that the speed of the vehicle has slowed to twenty-five miles an hour,” she paused.

          “Ok, so we know the light turned red and Agent Booth hit his brakes.  They fail and he moves to the E-brake.  This fails and before he can do anything else, a round pierces the door and hits him in the side.  At this point the vehicle’s speed should be much greater than twenty-five miles an hour as the speed limit on that stretch of road is forty miles an hour,” Oliver tried to piece it together.

          “You’re right but the car was still in drive up until the computer stopped recording when the car flipped onto it’s side,” Jamie told him. 

          “The evidence doesn’t add up.  No way that car was in drive at the time of the accident.  It couldn’t lose speed that fast in that gear,” he shook his head and pulled open the driver door.  Climbing into the vehicle, he looked at the brake pedal and the column shift.  Nothing seemed out of place but something wasn’t right.

          “Hand me the fingerprinting kit.  I want to make sure Agent Booth is the only one who handled this column shifter,” Oliver told her.  Jamie rushed over to the desk and retrieved the equipment he needed.

          “What are you thinking?”  She asked.

          “I’m thinking that our Good Samaritan might not be so good.  He was left with Agent Booth in the car until the police arrived,” he explained.

          “So he might have shifted the car back into drive, knowing the car wouldn’t go anywhere because it was on its side.  He was trying to make it look like Agent Booth acted improperly in the accident.  But then why have a shooter aiming for the vehicle too?”  Jamie wondered as Oliver retrieved a set of prints.

          “Perhaps we have two separate entities working here.  Scarpini’s men messed with the car and someone else put the bullet into Agent Booth,” he said.

          “That seems more plausible,” she agreed.

          “Even if I’m incorrect, we’d better make sure that we have an armed guard at the hospital.  Whoever started this is going to want to finish it,” Oliver told her.  Jamie nodded and quickly went for the nearest phone.

**St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center, Friday at 12:30 am**

          Brennan sat next to her partner waiting for him to wake up.  He’d been in surgery a little longer than Dr. Tulane had expected as they’d only been in the hospital room together for half an hour.  The forensic anthropologist grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.  She wanted him to know she was there.

          In the back of her mind, she knew she should be calling the Jeffersonian and Rebecca about what had happened but it would be three thirty in the morning on the East Coast.  There would be no point in rousing people from their sleep until Booth woke up.

          “Dr. Brennan,” Officer Chambliss had silently entered the room without her noticing.  She turned and looked at him.

          “Can we speak out in the hall?”  He kept his tone low.  She nodded slowly and reluctantly left Booth.

          “What is it?”  She asked once they were away from her partner.

          “I’ve been unable to contact Sheriff Bosch all evening.  He’s not answering his cell phone or his home phone.  I sent a couple of squad cars out to his house but he isn’t there,” Chambliss explained.

          “Do you think he’s in danger?”  She wondered.

          “After what the forensic team told me, I’m thinking it’s more likely a suspect,” he told her.

          “Pardon?”  The forensic anthropologist didn’t know what he meant.

          “His standard issue rifle is missing and the forensic team thinks that two teams of persons were involved in tonight’s incident,” Chambliss said.

          “He shot Booth?”  She wasn’t sure how much the officer knew about Bosch’s financial records.

          “I’m looking into it.  ADA Julie Sheridan sent me some financial records that showed the Sheriff’s strange activities.  Seems her office is pretty certain something illegal is going on at our office,” he shook his head.

          “Well I’ll offer any assistance I can,” Brennan told him.

          “For right now, there is nothing.  I’m posting guards at your door.  Around nine am, a team of FBI agents will be here to take over.  Tell Agent Booth that I hope he gets better soon,” with that Officer Chambliss left.  Brennan returned to her partner’s side more worried now than she was before.


	17. Chapter 17

**St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center, Friday at 2:00 am**

          “Bones…” Booth had a grip on her shoulder and shook her lightly.  The forensic anthropologist had nodded off while waiting for him to wake up.  She opened her eyes slowly and then turned to her partner.  A big smile crossed her face.

          “Booth,” she didn’t exactly know what to say but her smile conveyed her thoughts.

          “Am I glad to see you’re ok,” he smiled back at her.

          “Well technically I have rib fractures, some deep contusions, and a slight concussion but I’ll be ok,” she corrected him.  His face showed his displeasure and she quickly said,

          “But I’m more concerned about what happened to you,”

          “I certainly won’t be up on my feet dancing for a little while but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he smiled again.

          “Officer Chambliss gave me some troubling news along with the forensic team’s discovery,” Brennan said.

          “Lay it on me.  We have to get whoever did this before we can travel back to D.C.,” Booth wasn’t about to let whoever tried to kill them go.

          “Ah its good to see you two awake,” CSI Mendoza entered the room followed by Jamie and Agent Blachura.

          “Yes we were very worried,” Cary said.

          “Well I’d be more worried for the guys who did this when our fellow agents catch up to them,” Booth gave her a wink.

          “This is true,” Agent Blachura smiled.

          “I have the paperwork for Champ and Jamie and I have news about your SUV,” Oliver cut in and handed the paperwork to the forensic anthropologist.

          “Lay it on us,” Booth smirked.

          “Well first, you won’t be getting the insurance money back.  Second, both Jamie and I believe that two separate individuals were involved in the incident,” the CSI explained.

          “I kind of figured on the first one but fill me in on the second,” the G-man said.

          “As Officer Chambliss told Dr. Brennan, one individual messed with the brakes and then appeared at the crime scene to make sure it looked like you were driving recklessly.  Our second individual shot you from across the street at the Burger King which had been shut down due to a kitchen fire,” Mendoza told them.

          “The Burger King?”  Booth was skeptical at that kind of shot.

          “Officer Chambliss suspects the Sheriff of shooting you,” Brennan said.

          “With his military background and the years he spent on the SWAT team, he could pull off the shot and probably would have made a more dangerous one had the car not been unsteady,” Jamie filled in.

          “Ah,” Booth nodded and let them continue.

          “The Sheriff is missing and Chambliss has men scouring Phoenix and the surrounding areas for him.  The department’s forensic accountant teamed up with our forensic accountant and between the two of them, they compared Scarpini’s financials with Bosch’s.  The Sheriff is dirty as the day is long,” Agent Blachura shook her head.

          “I thought something was going on when he tried to convict those two college kids.  Then the location of where they were in relation to the attempts on their lives just bothered me.  No way Scarpini found out who they were, what they looked like, and their addresses without help,” Booth cursed his stupidity.  Had he moved faster maybe the entire accident could have been avoided.

          “More importantly, I have agents tracking down the Good Samaritan that “helped” you at the accident scene.  His fingerprints were found on the column shifter inside the SUV and one the tampered brake line.  They came back to a Sam Drysdale.  He’s a known associate of Scarpini,” Cary explained.

          “Well done everyone.  Please let me know of any more developments,” Booth smiled as he tried to nudge the group out of the room.

          “The two agents coming at nine am are Agent Tom Hubb and Agent Sara Owens.  I’ll forward along your request,” Cary winked and then left the room.  Jamie, the lab tech, followed her leaving only Oliver left.

          “I’ll explain to the SPCA the situation.  I’m sure they can make sure Champ is well taken care of until you’re medically clear,” the CSI told them.

          “Thank you very much Oliver,” Brennan smiled at him.  “I’ll be done with the paperwork soon.”

          “Take your time.  I’ll be back around nine,” he smiled and then left them alone.  Brennan saw Booth shake his head.  His mind was working on the info he’d just been given but there was something else he needed.  She noticed while they were talking his eyes kept shifting toward the bathroom door.

          “I’ll get a nurse,” she smiled and got up off her chair.

          “Thanks Bones,” he smiled back.


	18. Chapter 18

**Scarpini Construction Equipment Storage, Friday at 8:00 am**

          “Good to see you Sheriff,” Vinny Scarpini gave a slight smile as the lawman sat down at a table across from him.

          “I won’t be a Sheriff much longer.  My cover was blown when your guy went and pulled that little stunt.  There hasn’t been any news on Agent Booth or Dr. Brennan so I’m guessing that they aren’t dead as I had hoped,” Bosch didn’t bother to hide his anger.

          “You’ll be compensated handsomely for your help.  Drysdale’s plan would have worked had you not decided to try to kill Agent Booth.  Despite all the trouble they have caused, we’re smart enough to not bring the weight of the federal government upon us.  Murder of a federal agent and his partner carries a heavy sentence.  Tampering with a vehicle is a crime both I and Sam could have lived with,” Scarpini held his anger down.  There was no point in losing his cool now.  He’d managed to stay out of sight of the authorities thanks to the expansive network of cronies he had at his disposal.  Moving from place to place every day during the wee hours of the morning allowed for him to finally move to the construction equipment storage that sat on the outskirts of town.  The authorities had cleared the facility and now no one was looking there for him.  After he was done with the Sheriff, he’d be making his way toward the Mexican border in the hidden compartment of a van owned by one of his men who routinely made drug buys across the border.  It was tight for a human being but he’d only be in there long enough to get into Mexico.  Once there he would be free and could still run his operation from the safety of foreign soil. 

          “Either way we’re stuck here.  I’m sure my deputies are combing the entire county for me after missing my call into work this morning,” Bosch told him.

          “You have served your purpose.  I will give you the reward and you will leave here,” Scarpini pointed to the door.

          “Then we’re even?  No more working for you or owing you money?”  The Sheriff asked.

          “We are even my friend.  Once you leave here you are a free man.  Well free from me but not the law,” the mobster clarified his point before Bosch stood from his chair.

          “I’d say it was a pleasure doing business with you but considering my current circumstances…” the Sheriff let the sentence hang there before turning and leaving the warehouse.  Once Bosch was out of sight, Scarpini nodded to his men.  One of them pulled out a remote for a toy car and went to a nearby window.  He waited until the car was stopped at the red light down the street.

          Bosch turned on the radio and tried to find the news station.  He paid little attention to the school bus that pulled up into the curb lane next to him.  The children on the bus were talking to their friends or looking around while they wait for the light to change.  On the other side of the Sheriff, a semi pulled into the left turning lane, heading for the nearest truck stop for breakfast.

          The light changed and they all stepped on the gas to go forward.  That’s when a massive explosion rocked the vehicles.  Windows shattered, throwing glass everywhere, followed by the shrapnel of Sheriff Bosch’s car.

**St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center, Friday at 9:00 am**

          “Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, I’m Agent Tom Hubb and this is Agent Sara Owens.  We’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Tom smiled a big smile.

          “Thanks, I really appreciate it,” Booth smiled back.

          “The police officers outside entered the room earlier and said that they had a crispy critter down at the morgue.  Is it possible for me to get a ride down there?  I’d like to see what they meant by ‘crispy’,” the forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “I don’t know if that is a good idea ma’am.  We’re worried about your safety,” Agent Owens said.

          “That may be but if Dr. Riley needs help with identifying the victim, I must offer my assistance,” Brennan told them.

          “Excuse me, I need to borrow Dr. Brennan,” CSI Mendoza cut in as he entered the room.  They had been expecting him and she smiled.

          “Never mind there is my ride,” Brennan smirked.

          “Bones…” Booth started to say something but she cut him off.

          “I’ll be fine Booth.  We’ll be at the coroner’s office.”  Booth didn’t like it but he knew he couldn’t stop her.

          “Coroner’s office?”  Oliver was confused.

          “I’ll explain on the way,” Brennan smiled as she grabbed the paperwork the CSI needed for the SPCA.  The two were out the door in a matter of moments.

          “Looks like she has a mind of her own,” Tom chuckled.

          “You have no idea,” Booth shook his head.

          “So you and her…” Tom started to ask but Sara smacked his arm.

          “You hate it when people ask about us.  Just because they’re partners doesn’t mean they are having sex,” she gave him a look before heading out into the hallway.

          “Women,” Tom chuckled.

          “Good luck,” Booth smirked as the agent went back out into the hall.  Angela had often said the sexual tension between he and Brennan was so thick he could cut it with a knife and he imagined that the interaction between Tom and Sara was similar.

          He grabbed the remote and turned on his television.  News of the person who had blown up in the car had spread through Phoenix like wildfire.  The semi driver was unhurt but some of the children on the school bus hadn’t been so lucky.  Out of the thirty kids on the bus, fifteen had been rushed to emergency rooms and so had the bus driver.  The remaining students had been treated by paramedics and released.

          Somehow, Booth knew the explosion had to be part of their case.  Scarpini’s men had proven they knew their way around motor vehicles and it wouldn’t surprise him if they blew up the poor bastard in the car.

          “Morning Agent Booth, I trust you’re doing better,” the nurse named Lisa entered the room with his medication.

          “I’d be better if I’d joined Bones down at the coroner’s office,” he shook his head.

          “I told her to take it easy but it doesn’t seem she’s ever been one to let physical limitations slow her down,” Lisa smiled as she handed him the pills and a glass of water.  He laughed and took the pain medication.

          “Breakfast will be in shortly and so will the doctor,” the nurse told him before leaving the room.  Booth grabbed the phone by the bed and then called the Jeffersonian.

**Coroner’s Office, Friday at 10:00 am**

          “Dr. Brennan, what a surprise.  I’m guessing someone told you about our well done friend,” Dr. Riley smiled as the forensic anthropologist entered the room.

          “Yes indeed.  I was hoping I could assist you,” Brennan smiled back and walked over to the autopsy table that held the murder victim.

          “I could certainly use the help.  I don’t get very many cases like these,” the coroner explained.

          “Any viable DNA left?”  She wondered.

          “I sent some of the charred skin for testing but it wouldn’t hold my breath.  The bones need cleaning before I can check for dental records but that might be a stretch as well.  We have conflicting witness reports and it seems an accurate description of our guy will have to be proven through tests,” Riley said.

          “Lets get to work,” Brennan grabbed a pair of latex gloves out of the box on the lab tray behind her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Booth’s Hospital Room, Saturday at 9:00 am**

          “Dental records confirm our findings.  Our crispy critter is none other than Sheriff Bosch,” Dr. Riley explained to the group that had gathered around Agent Booth in his hospital room.  The G-man shook his head before Agent Blachura jumped in.

          “The lab techs found what appears to be remnants of an explosive underneath the vehicle near the gas tank.  They’re fairly certain it was remotely detonated otherwise the car would have blown up the first time he turned the ignition or stepped on the gas.  Although it’s just a theory until they finish sifting through every single piece of the car,” she explained.

          “So that leaves us with a whole lot of nothing,” Officer Chambliss said.  His tone did not belie his depressed feelings.  The case had just taken a turn for the worse and the only man who could tie everything together was dead.

          “Not necessarily.  If the Sheriff is dead then there is a good chance Scarpini was behind it.  Have all the properties he owns checked again.  Run another sweep.  This may be our chance to catch him,” Booth told them.

          “I’ll get our guys working with Chambliss’s guys and we’ll run it again,” Cary nodded.

          “I’ll get APBs out on all Scarpini’s known associates.  Somebody somewhere knows about what happened yesterday,” the Officer’s hope renewed the two quickly left the room.

          “You think this’ll work?”  Dr. Riley asked.

          “I only hope it does.  If not Bones and I are heading back to D.C. without the resolution to this case,” Booth gave a slight shrug.

**Arizona/Mexico Border Crossing, Saturday at 10:00 am**

          “Another boring day on the job huh?”  Mexican Border Guard Ernesto Hernandez asked his American counterpart, Jason Burnham, as they stood inside the small office at the end of the border crossing station.

          “Si Senor,” Jason nodded.  Both men laughed at their little inside joke.  Ernesto’s English was better than most of the other guards and Jason’s Spanish wasn’t that bad either.  Between the two of them, they had caught more smugglers than they cared to remember.  Originally, Jason’s assignment had been temporary as a good will gesture by the American government in aiding Mexico’s depleted Border Control.  He had been teaching English to the Guards and showing them tricks of the trade he’d learned from his time protecting the United States and Canada border.  Now however, it seemed he would be there indefinitely.

          “I got a report from your Feds,” Ernesto handed him what came out over the fax machine.  They were about to start their shift at the far entrance lane and Jason took a look.

          “This is a list of vehicles that should not be allowed to cross the border.  Apparently any and all travelers are wanted for questioning,” he shook his head.

          “I’ll pass it out and hope our guys don’t end up on the wrong end of this.  I’m sure your FBI has passed the info to the Federales,” his partner told him.

          “I certainly hope so.  We’re going to need to keep sharp out there today,” Jason nodded.

          “And I was hoping we could watch the football game,” Ernesto chuckled.  His partner knew there was a big soccer match on today and it was going to start before they got off shift.  The two quickly headed out to their post to watch for any of the vehicles or suspects.

          A few hours passed and so far nothing.  The two were getting bored with the run of the mill border stops and Ernesto yawned.

          “Stay awake buddy.  Only five more hours to go,” Jason smacked his friend’s leg.

          “You try staying awake after your baby son cried all night long.  I dare you,” the Mexican gave him a look.

          “I bet he sleeps nice for your wife during the day,” Jason teased.

          “I’m sure Rodrigo gets a lot of sleep during the day,” his friend shook his head.  A van rolled it’s way to the border gate at their terminal.

          “Good afternoon sir.  What would you be bringing into the United States today?”  Jason asked.

          “Nothing, just heading for Phoenix to do some business,” the man answered.  Ernesto poked Jason’s leg out of sight of the driver.  That was the signal to say something was amiss.

          “We’ll need to check your vehicle anyway sir.  New law about vans,” Jason explained.

          “Search away,” the driver told him.  Ernesto got up off his chair and took the man’s driver’s license while Jason opened the backdoors.  Looking at the list, he double-checked the license plate to the list.  This van was on it and he waited for Ernesto to come around the back.  He saw nothing in the cab and shut the doors as his partner approached.

          “This is one of our guys.  How do you want to play this?”  Jason asked.

          “You still got that bag of oregano?”  Ernesto wondered.

          “I always keep it on me,” his partner smirked and walked around to the front of the vehicle while Ernesto went to contact the phone number on the fax.

          “I need you to step out of the van sir.  We found something that looks like marijuana,”

          “Marijuana?  I didn’t put that there,” the driver protested as he exited the vehicle.

          “Did you let someone borrow your van sir?”  Jason asked as he pulled out his handcuffs and slapped them on.

          “Yes,” the man answered as he was being led away from the van.  Ernesto closed their lane and forced everyone to move to another lane before jumping inside to check the vehicle for anything else that might be stashed away.


	20. Chapter 20

**Arizona/Mexico Border Crossing, Saturday at 12:00 pm**

          “His name is Tony Vincenzo.  He’s got connections with Scarpini and his van has a nice little hidey-hole right behind the driver’s seat that extends under the undercarriage.  It’s a slim place but big enough to hide a man if he were lying down,” Jason explained to Agent Cary Blachura as they stared at their suspect through the glass of the interrogation room.

          “Did you ask him about Scarpini?”  She wanted to know.

          “No but he’s probably still trying to figure out how that bag of weed got into his van,” Ernesto laughed as he handed the FBI agent the bag of planted oregano.

          “So he played nice with you at the border and you planted Italian spices to get him in here,” she said.

          “Planted is such an ugly word.  I prefer deposit,” Ernesto chuckled.

          “I know you border boys play it fast and loose to catch your criminals but there is no way that would hold up in court,” Cary told them.

          “It would in a Mexican court,” Jason smirked.

          “Uh huh well at least he didn’t try to get away or kill somebody.  Good work.  Now why don’t you introduce me to our friend?”  She smiled at the men’s ingenuity. 

          “Right this way madam,” Jason walked to the door and held it open for her.  The two entered the room while Ernesto stayed behind to watch from the other side of the glass.

          “So Mr. Vincenzo, have you seen your boss Vinny Scarpini lately?”  Cary asked without introducing herself.

          “I don’t know this Vinny Scarpini,” Tony replied.

          “Uh huh then why were you driving a van that is owned by Scarpini for his construction business?”  She wanted to know.

          “I bought the van from some guy.  It was sitting on an empty lot and I needed a vehicle,” the mobster told them.

          “And the wacky weed?  You said you let someone borrow your van.  Who was it?”  Jason asked.

          “I don’t remember,” Vincenzo answered.

          “So I take it you like Federal prison.  I hear the Mexican jails are lovely this time of year,” Cary told him.

          “The weed isn’t mine!  I told you!”  Tony shouted.

          “Possession is nine tenths of the law whether you’re from Mexico or the United States,” Jason told him before the two of them turned to head for the door.

          “I’ll tell you what you wanna know as long as I don’t end up in a Mexican prison,” the prisoner squealed.

          “We’re listening,” Cary said as they both turned back to him.  She took the seat across from him while Jason leaned on the wall.

          “He threatened to kill me if I didn’t do as he said,” Tony said.

          “How can we believe that?  You’re on of Scarpini’s goons,” Jason raised an eyebrow.

          “He said if I botched this up he’d kill me just like he had that Phoenix cop killed,” Vincenzo explained.

          “Ok tell us the location of Scarpini and you won’t end up in a Mexican jail cell,” Cary told him.

          “He’s at Quintana Roo and Nuevo Leon in Cuauhtémoc, Mexico City.  Now will you let me go?”  He asked.

          “Your van is parked outside,” Cary told him.  Quickly the snitch got up from the table and left the room.  Ernesto showed him to his van and watched him drive across the border where the van was promptly pulled over by two large black SUVs.  He smirked and headed back inside.

          “Your friends got him,” Ernesto smiled.

          “I did promise him he wouldn’t end up in a Mexican prison.  However he will end up in an American prison for aiding and abetting a fugitive and whatever else we can dig up about his drug trafficking career.  It’s been a pleasure boys.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call to the Federales,” Agent Blachura shook their hands and then went for her cell phone.

**Booth’s Hospital Room, Saturday at 4:00 pm**

          “I take it from that look on your face, you got him,” Booth smirked as Agent Blachura entered the room.

        “Right where the snitch told us he’d be.  The Federales were all too happy to hand him over.  Then once we’re done with him, they get to try him for all those drugs he smuggled into their country.  I’d say he’ll be in prison for the rest of his life,” she smiled.

          “That’s great.  Well done,” he extended his hand and she grabbed it and gave it a shake.

          “Couldn’t have done it without you and Dr. Brennan,” Cary said.

          “Anytime we can lend a hand, let us know,” Booth told her.  She turned to leave and bumped into Officer Chambliss.

          “Heard you nabbed him.  Great work,” he smiled.

          “Thanks,” she smiled back and walked out.

          “Well I came to thank you two.  It was great to have you hear.  Hope you get to go home soon,” the officer said.

          “In about a week we’ll be out of here.  The doctor’s like the way I’m healing,” Booth explained.

          “Then I have more great news, Champ will be going with you,” Chambliss pulled out a folded up packet of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Brennan.

          “This is fantastic.  Thank you,” the forensic anthropologist had a large smile that lit up her face.

          “You’re welcome.  I’ll catch you two later,” Chambliss turned to leave and Booth called after him.

          “Take it easy Officer,”

          “That’s Sheriff but that’s a common Fed mistake,” Chambliss chuckled and gave him a wink.


	21. Epilogue

**One Week Later, On the Plane Back to Washington D.C.**

          Brennan fidgeted in her seat.  The pain in her still healing ribs seemed to be enjoying the change in altitude.  She’d already taken the medication the doctor had prescribed and she hoped it would kick in soon.

          “You ok Bones?”  Booth looked over at her.  When the FBI had refused to pay for his first class ticket, Brennan had taken the phone from her partner and proceeded to inform the man on the other end of the line that if the FBI would not pay for his ticket she would and then bill them appropriately later.  At first the man balked saying she’d never get the money until she promised to bring up the horrible treatment of a wounded agent and former Army Ranger sniper.  The news stations would love to hear that the forensic anthropologist informed him.  That’s when she was patched through to Booth’s boss Deputy Director Hacker.  Needless to say he agreed to whatever she wanted; partially because he wanted to date her and partially because he didn’t want her making a scene.

          “I’ll be fine as soon as we level out,” she forced a smile.  He gave her hand a squeeze.  Within five minutes the plane had leveled out and she was beginning to feel better and the smile grew.  Although internally she was urging the pain medication to hurry it up.

          “This was nice of you to get me a seat up here,” Booth smiled at her.

          “Well how can we discuss the case if you’re sitting back in third class?”  His partner asked.

          “I’m more interested in discussing your little slip up, if that’s what you can call it,” he said.

          “Slip up?”  Brennan was confused.

          “Yes the whole ‘preparing for offspring’ statement,” he reminded her.

          “Oh that,” she said simply.

          “You’re not getting out of this so easily.  Do you really want to have children?  I know before you insisted you didn’t,” Booth told her.

          “After spending time with Parker, I would have to admit, my view on having children has changed.  A lot of things have changed.  I have a wonderful man who loves me for me.  It’s very hard to find someone that doesn’t view my superior intellect as a turn off.  Or someone who is looking for meaning instead of just sex,” Brennan explained.

          “’Biological urges’ is what you used to say.  Remember when Angela and Hodgins were talking marriage?  You said it was an antiquated ritual,” he poked her.

          “It is.  I’m not talking marriage.  I’m talking children,” she clarified.

          “Uh huh.  So having a child out of wedlock is no big deal?”  He wondered.

          “You’ve done it before,” she said without thinking.  Booth’s face soured slightly but not as much as she expected.

          “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have…” he cut her off.

          “You’re right and I wouldn’t change anything for the world.  I love Parker,”

          “I love him too,” Brennan smiled.

          “So having a dog is our first step?”  He squeezed her hand again.

          “Yes it is.  We can work on the baby making once we’re both healthy.  Although I’m not sure I can wait that long,” she smirked and leaned over before kissing him on the cheek.

**The End**


End file.
